Belleza
by Queen Donna
Summary: Anna Marie and her best friend own/ run their own fashion line, Belleza. Anna M is in the middle of a serious artistic block when she gets the chance to a Vogue ad until she runs into the solution she never thought she'd need. NOTHING to do w/ Movie/Book


**The Big, Bad World**

"One hazelnut, three sugars, spin it around, and easy on the whip." I lowered my plain white Prada sunglasses and took out my coach wallet to pay for my meal.

Even though it was Friday, today was going to be a long day; I needed as much energy as possible. I left my favorite café, breakfast in hand, and walked down the street to the most amazing, yet frightening clear, silver building in the world. I entered, not needing to even show my pass as the secretary smiled at me.

"Good morning, Miss Davis, can I get you anything?" I smiled, thanked Christie, and shook my head no. At least, I thought that one was Christie. It was Friday, so she had to be Christie. I had too many secretaries. Of course, I wouldn't admit that to anyone, especially not Rachel.

"Christie, you can call me Anna Marie, you know." I reminded her, again. She nodded.

"Oh, and my name is Joyce, by the way." She called after me. _Darn it!_

There were too many annoying messages on my phone regarding who-knows-what and I tried to clear my head as I pressed the elevator button for the fourteenth floor. Phillip was walking towards the conference room as I exited the elevator and he smiled before opening the door for me. I thanked him and took a deep breath.

Once I was in the long, white-walled room, I took off my Louis Vuitton black overcoat and held my plain white Dooney and Burke bag. I sat at one of the head chairs of the thin, wooden table as my partner came in. Rachel wore dark, skinny jeans, and a white, satin, lace Ralf Lauren blouse.

For the past five years of my life, I had looked every person I met, knew, or saw up and down to find out what they were wearing. This habit started in my second year of college, when I decided I was going to become a designer. I met my partner and best friend, Rachel the same year. We sat next to each other in art class. She was wearing the most eye-catching red sweater I had ever seen and I will always remember the shock I got when she introduced herself in her English accent.

I thought that I would have to start at the beginning, as every other "future designer" does, working my butt of. The weird thing is that I was discovered in a competition and received some prize money. Actually, a lot of money. That was when Rachel and I decided to start our own line. At first, we struggled to get our name out, but these days, we have been extremely successful. We were expecting to have our own show at New York's Fashion Week in two years if we kept working hard. Our only problem was that a few months ago, Rachel and I decided to contact local work agencies and ask for more employees. For example, that is how we got Christie, no wait, I mean Joyce. Once we got twenty-one new staff members, I asked Rachel to tell the job agency we didn't need the advertisement anymore. She never got my email and we doubled our workforce as well as the number of extra people we had to pay, without even realizing it. Rachel said we could just cut some of the hired workers, but I got to know each one of them and now, I felt a little attached.

So that's the history of my favorite line in the world, _Belleza_.

"Are you ready for this?" Rachel asked me. I looked at her and she appeared as though she had needed sleep. I shook my head no. She sighed in frustration.

"Ann, we have to sack some of them!" My partner whispered. I looked back at her brilliant green-gem colored eyes and curly black hair.

"Rachel, these people have no jobs, no income, and no way of paying their bills!" I whispered back frantically.

"Excuse me, Miss Davis, Miss Annarie? You're visitors have arrived." A voice came from the speaker next to Rachel's stack of papers.

"Thank you, Nathan, please send them up." She answered. A few minutes later, I was face-to-face with a representative from _"Vogue"_.

Two and half hours later, my partner and I left the conference room in satisfaction. We had gotten the space for an advertisement in the magazine's November issue at a reasonable price. That gave us two weeks to produce a stunning piece of clothing to show off. It was time to hit the drawing board and free draw for another hour. Then get some air as well as some lunch. Rachel and I decided on the tiny deli two blocks away. Inside, we sat by the window while we gazed at the busy Chicago natives rush in and out of buildings, trying to avoid the cold air.

"So, Jeremy and I are going out for drinks tonight." Rachel cut off my daydreaming. I sat up and nodded.

"That sounds nice." I pulled at my self-knit deep purple scarf. "You two have been going out for awhile." I smiled at Rachel and noticed her blushing a little.

"It's only been a year." She said, modestly. I looked at her. It had to be longer than that.

"Oh, fine! A year and eleven months!" She exclaimed, "Next week is our two-year anniversary." The England native smiled, showing off her perfectly straight teeth.

"Oh, Rachel! Congratulations!" I said. She was really happy with Jeremy and I had met him a year ago. He was a really nice guy, funny too. Rachel was extremely lucky. Once we got our sandwiches, my friend looked at me quickly, then back at her roast beef and lettuce on white.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" I asked her.

"Nothing," She looked up again, "It's just you haven't done much on the weekends lately…"

I knew where this was going again, but it was already too late.

"Seriously, do you need me to go onto some idiotic website and make an obnoxious account for you on one of those "find you're match" places?" I had to admit, her bluntness was always admired. I shook my head in aggravation.

"Rachel, how many times have we had this conversation?" I bit into my Swiss and ham on white. She ignored me.

"Honestly! You have spent _every freaking weekend_ working or going shopping, or going to the gym! Ann, you don't know how well you could do with guys!" I looked at my reflection in the window.

I saw a blue-eyed, brunette, freckled, slightly bored girl looking back at me. She was tall and thin, but at the same time, poised. Her deep brown hair was extremely straight and she was doing nothing fun in her life. I agreed with Rachel again, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I just shook my head a second time to justify my opinion. _You don't have time for a boyfriend!_ Rachel knew me better though.

"I can tell you at least need to have some type on enjoyment." She said, "You know what? I'm cancelling with Jeremy. You and I are going to…" She thought a minute, "The movies!" Rachel started to take out her phone, but I stopped her.

"Ray, no! You just told me that you and Jeremy have been dating for two years." I said, "Enjoy yourself tonight. We can go out Saturday." She wouldn't give up,

"At least relax!"

"Okay, I'll try." I laughed, "But you aren't going to cancel tonight!"

"Fine, but you're going to smile and laugh, whether you like it or not!" Rachel pointed at me. We finished our lunch and rushed through the chilly, late October wind. When we got back, we did some more free drawing, then paperwork.

**The Meeting**

Rachel left early and I realized that many other workers did as well. Two hours later, deep into a random vision, I noticed that Joyce was standing at my door.

"Um, Anna Marie, I don't mean to interrupt, but…"

"Yes, Joyce, you can leave if you need to." I answered her. She thanked me and reached for her jacket. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said.

"No, you won't. Katie comes in tomorrow." She called before shutting the door. _I will never get that right._ I turned to my glass-top desk and Dell Computer. I sighed, my vision was gone. I folded the paper I had been drawing on and put it into one of the folders in my file cabinet. I never threw out an idea. As I closed the drawer shut, I could here Rachel's words from our lunch conversation echoing through my head. _"You need to have some type of enjoyment! At least relax!"_ Darn it. Why was she always right?

I decided to follow her orders. Maybe I could watch some TV. I hadn't done that in awhile. I reached for my coat and marched down the three flights of stairs and out the door.

TV didn't exactly seem like a good way to enjoy my Friday night. I thought about my assignment of relaxation as I walked home. Instead of bustling by, like I always did, I walked extremely slow, gazing at the different store windows and other city goers. I never realized that the scenes I rushed by all the time were really worth marveling. I stopped to sit on a small, wooden bench for a few minutes. There was a lot that I had been missing. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten the beauty of the city I was living in.

After slowly getting up, I decided I should go to my apartment. I walked a bit faster and still, couldn't help but to continue to stare at the different store windows. I came across a small boutique and looked longingly at a pair of high-heeled black booties. I turned to face the store's door and got knocked over by an incoming young man, carrying too many boxes. He helped me up and apologized frantically. I told him that it was okay while rubbing my forehead.

I looked at him and for the first time in five years, the first thing I noticed were his bright green eyes, not what he was wearing. Actually, I had no idea what he was wearing. I just stared back at those green eyes that for some reason appeared worried. Why was he worried? Oh, he ran into me, right. I forgot for a minute.

"Are you feeling okay? Ma'am?" The man led me over to a truck parked near the sidewalk and opened the passenger door so I could sit down.

"Yeah, I think so."

"This is going to sound stupid, but how many fingers am I holding up?" I looked at the man again and saw a few fingers blurring in and out. Then my vision went black. I thought I felt my head hit something, like a car headrest, but I wasn't sure.

"And this was because some empty cardboard boxes?" I heard a woman ask.

"Yes, Doctor."  
I slowly opened my eyes and realized there was an ice pack on my head. I turned my neck to face the voices and saw the man and a doctor talking. When they noticed that I was awake, the woman came over to the table and helped me to sit up. She felt my forehead, took my temperature, and asked how I was feeling. I told her I had a slight headache, but I was fine. The doctor took a few x-rays and sent me back to her office while we waited for them to print out.

"I'm so sorry." The young man said when the doctor left.

"It's okay, really. I don't even think that it's you're fault. I was so stressed about work that I wasn't paying attention."

After a minute, the man turned to face me. I saw that he appeared to be exhausted and hungry. He wore dark, ripped jeans, a long-sleeved gray shirt, a thick, heavy black jacket, a navy-blue hiking hat, and Nike sneakers.

"By the way, my name is Dan." He gave a gentle smile. Dan seemed to be relieved that I had accepted his third apology.

"Me? Oh, my name is Anna Marie." I looked down at my tiny purple heels. They had probably not helped with the fall. I felt like I was back in Middle School and I was outside in the schoolyard talking to the boy that every girl in class had a crush on. _Seriously? You are in charge of an emerging clothing line that will one day be bigger than Dior! Okay, maybe not, but it never hurts to aim high, right?_

The doctor came back in and said nothing had been broken. She allowed me to go home, but the minute I felt pain, I was instructed to call her.

Outside, Dan offered to drive me home in his truck. I climbed into the passenger seat and he apologized a fourth time.

"Seriously, Dan! You heard the doctor! I didn't break anything, which is a miracle for me." We laughed. He told me a little about his job and how he was studying to become a scientist or a banker. When I said that it was an odd combination, he said if it were up to him, he wouldn't be learning to be a banker. His dad was paying for him to go to the local college and study math, but at the same time Dan was working for a small shipping company so that he could pay for science courses. I also learned that he was twenty-three and did _not_ have a girlfriend. Wow was I really being that immature?

Dan was impressed when I told him that I ran a fashion line with my friend, because he had actually heard of it. He seemed to understand that I was under a lot of pressure and had a lot of work all the time.


End file.
